Shall We Beat To Quarters?
by Alone Dreaming
Summary: Jack decides to chase the Acheron instead of turning back to Galapagos. Stephen, hurt both physically and emotionally, tries to deal with his friend's decision. This is AU, movieverse.


**_Shall We Beat To Quarters?_******

**By Alone Dreaming**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own any of the characters from _Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World_. If I did, this would not be posted under fanfiction.**

**Author's Note: This is the drabble that refused to be a drabble. Originally, I did not plan for it to be more than two thousand words. However, it grew, expanded and refused to be ignored. So now, it is the drabble-that-was-not and has leveled itself off at about seven thousand words. It will be a long read but hopefully a good read.**

**  
Moving on, I'm not sure when I will have another story out. My muse has been very stubborn lately and only showed its face to write pieces of this story. I, unfortunately, have not been able to write anything that has looked good to me for a while now. So, there is one problem. Another problem is, school starts soon and I will very busy with it. I'm taking a few very advanced classes in subjects I truly despise. I won't try to explain to you why. I'm still questioning what I was thinking when I signed up for them. **

**Thank you to all of those who reviewed _Sir_: SilentTrainConductor, Gaeriel Palpatine, Misty Satin Dream, cantlivew/outHawkMash and funyun. It means a lot to me to see your reviews. It makes me want to write more even if I don't have the muse to do it. **

**If all goes well, I might have another few stories up at some point. They are all planned, it just takes actually getting the words to flow. So, until then, enjoy this blab of AU. **

**This is, AU, movie-verse, one shot, Stephen POV and purely meant for angst enjoyment. It has no real plot and spends more than half the time tormenting Stephen. If you do not like this, I cannot help you. **

**This story is dedicated to SilentTrainConductor who has faithfully read and reviewed all of my Master and Commander Fics. Many thanks to you, for your reviews always make me smile.  **

**----**

                "Shall we beat to quarters, sir?" Mr. Pullings asked, uncertainty lining his face. He watched as the captain paused, his hat in his hand. There was clearly an internal conflict going on within Lucky Jack. However, it did not last long for the captain turned to him and spoke.

                "Yes, we shall beat to quarters."

-

                "What is going on?" I whispered hoarsely. I had been sleeping, or at least, I had not been conscious when the loud sounds had startled me into awareness. My mind was terribly muddled and I could remember very little of what had happened as of late. Between pain and infection, I was not up to retaining any thought for long; or any memory for that matter. Other things, such as rest had taken precedence over recalling what I had last done or said.

                Higgins had a book in his lap and he was tugging at his chin. He looked up at me, his round face riddled with nervousness, "We've come upon the ship, sir. We're planning on attacking it."

                "Oh."

                A strange new pain settled within me, a pain that I did not fully understand. Somehow, deep down, I had known that Jack would most likely choose to chase the ship. When Bonden had come down and told me that they had spotted the _Acheron_, I had realized that if we were truly that close, Jack would go for it. After all, he was ready to give up everything to catch this ghost ship; that included the lives of the men. Without a doctor, the ship would suffer severe losses.

                That wasn't what was hurting me most though. The ache within me, the new one, was a mixture of that and the fact that Jack had actually chosen the ship after me. As much as I tried to convince myself that it wasn't a choice between the ship, and myself I knew that it had been. I knew that Jack had chosen the _Acheron _over me and it had given me a whole new emotion to deal with.

                With a slight groan, I started to prop myself up. Well, if Jack was truly ready to give up everything, so was I. If he saw that the ship was more important than me, then he most likely held up the crew higher than me as well. A bitter feeling settled in my heart and for a moment I was almost sure I was going to cry. Tears flooded my eyes but I held them back, trying to convince myself that the physical agony was causing them.

                "Sir," Higgins said, moving to support me as I sat up. "You shouldn't be moving. You need to rest. You are very, very ill."

                "So I am," I replied, my voice wavering. "But we are about to attack a ship with many more guns than we have, and many more men. It is faster and stronger than we are. I have no doubt that my services will be needed in the end."

                "But, sir," Higgins cried. "You can barely sit up." He was holding me up at this point for my arms were shaking too badly to support me. Even though he spoke very against me moving, I could hear relief in his voice. Poor Higgins; he was not up to caring for the masses that would come down during a fight. He wanted my help but he felt it necessary to try to keep me in bed.

                I smiled at him, a smile that was weak and it fell away quite quickly. "Then, Mr. Higgins, we shall make me a chair that will help me sit up. Then, between the two of us, I am sure we can keep some of the poor asses alive."

                Higgins licked his lips and nodded. I knew that he was a good man deep down. He just was lacking in book smarts about actual surgery and he favored alcohol a bit too much. I didn't trust him to even remove a splinter from someone in this sort of situation. So, I sent him to collect a few things that I knew would make me a good enough chair to sit in. Hopefully with his steady hands and my own knowledge we would be able to save a few of the crew.

                It took a bit more work than I planned to construct the chair I had in my mind. By then, the first of the gunshots had been fired and the ship was rocking. My own body was screaming at me but I ignored it to the best of my ability. I knew at some point, exhaustion would get the better of me and I would probably pass out. I even warned Higgins of it, and he seemed to be twice as nervous when he heard it. In an effort to calm him, I began to instruct him on how to care for the simpler wounds and had him lie out the tools he would need to use.

                We were ready just in time for the first round of patients to arrive.

                There were some very gruesome things in the first round. Most of the wounds came from cannon fire and those were the worst to treat. There were already missing limbs and bad head wounds. It became clear to me in the very beginning that I would not be able to just sit through this. Higgins was working his hardest to save a man who had lost most of his right arm and doing a very poor job at it.

                My strength was nearly gone already, for I had wasted most of it trying to stay awake. That did not matter though. The new ache in me seemed to fuel my body with a strange strength. I knew that it was not real strength at all, and that it sapped me of any of my real strength. It let me get to my feet though and I hobbled slowly over to tend to the cascades of wounded men that were coming down.

                The men that I tended to, the conscious ones, were astounded. For good reason, I suppose, for I must have looked like one of the walking dead. A sheen of sweat appeared on my forehead after the first patient and I soon had it running down my face in large drops. The pain in my side was beyond description and I knew that it was simply going to get worse if I didn't do something about it. When I finished with my second patient (or it could have been my third, I was quite beyond counting) I took a swing of laudanum and continued with what I was doing.

                It was after the gunshots had stopped that I knew I was doing very poorly myself. I had treated numerous people, leaving Higgins to do his best with the worst cases. I did not trust myself with those at the moment, for my vision was foggy and my hands shook as I tended the injuries. There was certain sogginess to the front of my shirt, and I knew that my bandages were soaked with blood. The fever that I had had for quite sometime was worse and I found it hard to tell if my patients were suffering from a fever themselves.

                It was when I reached Mr. Pullings that I knew that I would simply not be able to do another thing for any other person. I was kneeling in front of him, mostly because he was sitting on the ground but also because I could not hold myself up any longer. The pain from Jack's choosing the other ship over me was no longer providing strength but sapping it. With blurred vision, I studied the cut upon Tom's brow and the deep gash in his shoulder.

                "Did we come off well?" I asked weakly, reaching for more bandages. I knew Tom was probably only here because someone had dragged him. He came to me as rarely as Jack did for tending.

                Tom was staring at me with a strange look in his eyes. Gently, he grasped my shoulders as I began to sag. With careful maneuvering, I found myself leaning against the wall that he had been using for support only minutes before. Blinking, I valiantly tried to stay awake, only to find that I was fighting a loosing battle. Mr. Pullings was busily removing my shirt and then wincing at my blood soaked bandages.

                "We did, s – Oh dear God," Tom simply trailed off, staring at my midsection. I looked down to see that I torn the wound somewhat farther and it was bleeding sluggishly. The blood was a bad color though, filled with infection. I bit back a gasp as he pressed the bandages I had intended to use on him upon the bullet hole. "How could you have let it get this bad?" the second in command demanded.

                I considered this question for a moment, grimacing with pain. "It was already bad, Tom," I rarely called him by his first name and I knew he was shocked, "and the men needed me. I could not sit by and watch people die when I had the ability to help them. While there is still strength in me, I'll do what I can to save their lives." I paused, my mind beginning to blank out. "Did we have the weather gauge?"

                Whether Tom responded out of surprise that I had asked such a question or simply to humor me, I never really did find out. I felt myself sliding down, and my mind slipping away. "We did, Stephen," he said quickly. "And we've won…Now stay with me! Mr. Higgins! Help me!"

                I lost most of my conscious mind then but I was aware that I was being moved at some point. The pain in my side was so intense that I wondered if perhaps I had already died and had been condemned to Hell. Eternal suffering seemed a bit much for I could not recall what I had done in my life that was so bad. I had done something though, for I never lost full consciousness over the next few hours. I was aware of someone watching over me and someone else attempting to bandage me back up. I was beyond really caring about the wound though. Death seemed like a wonderful relief compared to life.

I wasn't sure what was making me want to die more; the physical pain or the emotional pain. Both were currently swallowing me up, tearing at me until I was weeping in agony. I am not really sure if I actually shed tears or not, but my mind was constantly sobbing. It never strayed away from consciousness enough for the pain to go completely away. Sometimes the agony lessened enough for me to organize my thoughts but other times it reached such levels that I was sure my soul would flee.

There was someone always at my side while I suffered. I knew it when I emerged from the pain long enough. A person was always sitting by me, talking to me and bathing my brow. Every now and again, I must have spoken to the person for I would hear them tell me to hush and rest. I never saw the point of hushing and resting. I was only going to die in the end for Higgins would not be able to help me. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to heal me, I did not want to be well.

The miserable fact that Jack had chosen to attack the _Acheron_ even though I was indisposed haunted me. He had chosen the ghost ship over me, over the crew, haunted me. At a time, I was sure that I meant something to the captain. I had been positive that he would care whether I lived or died. Now, I knew I meant less than the enemy. At least Jack would stab the enemy through the heart and kill him straight away. I was left to die in physical and mental torment.

I stayed in a cycle of despair for an eternity. For ages I was sure that death would come to me at any second. My few bouts of consciousness were spent staring at the ceiling. The person sitting next to me would speak but I never answered. I would just wait for unconsciousness to claim me again. Even if I had felt like talking, I'm not sure I would have been able to. I could barely form the words in my mind, much less force them through my lips.

Then one day, I awoke to feel myself being moved once more. The usual swaying of the ship was no longer present and I realized I was on land. My eyes refused to open to allow me to see what was going on and I lacked the strength to say anything. So, I lay still, allowing the people carrying me to settle me upon a cot. A blanket was tucked around my waist but my chest and stomach were left open to the air. Someone was fingering the bandages my middle, removing them with care.

A bit of curiosity ran through me, and I attempted to peel my eyelids apart in order to see what was going on. They were stuck shut though, and I didn't have the will power to work to open them. So, I sat and listened to what was going on around me. The voices did not make much sense at first but after a moment of listening I almost was able to comprehend what they were saying.

"…you … to do this, Mr. Higgins?"

"Yes, sir, as ready as ever."

"Good."

The voices sounded familiar and for some reason, the conversation made me a bit nervous. What on earth did Higgins need to be ready for? He couldn't possibly be performing a surgery, could he? Who on earth would trust him with that? The person he would operate on would probably die a terribly painful death. Who was in such bad shape that they could not wait for a different doctor?

When the surgical knife was pressed against my stomach and the injury started to scream with fresh pain, I was just conscious enough to realize that the unfortunate person was me. I think I must have let out a scream because someone was hushing me again. Comforting words escaped the person's mouth and as the darkness took me I recognized who was speaking.

"Jack…" I whispered and then there was nothing.

For a long time there was nothing. I was far away from everything, lingering in the deepest places of my mind. I could not remember anything from what we would call reality. Even the simple things, such as my name, had escaped me. It probably should have bothered me but it didn't. I was more than happy to be carefree and relaxed. I forgot about my physical problems very quickly. My emotional wounds were there but they seemed very unimportant. I was strangely content.

But no good things last forever as I was constantly realizing. I awoke from my deep sleep with a cup pressed to my lips and my head lifted off my pillow. Someone was trying to coax me into drinking water. After realizing that I was quite thirsty, I consented to allowing the water being poured into my mouth and even allowed the person to massage my throat in order to help me swallow. It was strange being so helpless. Usually it would have bothered me but right then, I was hardly bothered at all by it.

I realized then, as the person kept giving me water, that I was not going to die after all. After such a period of time thinking I was going to go to the Lord at any time, the idea of staying with the living seemed quite foreign. I no longer was in such a bad state that I did not want to live. Life just seemed like such a strange thing to me anymore that I was left unsure if I'd be able to go back to it in a normal manner.

I spent the next few days (I was actually aware of days passing) sleeping and being fed porridge and water. I never opened my eyes and my mind remained a bit hazy. The waking world still seemed a little ways off from where I was and I didn't mind it. I was slightly wary of going back and dealing with the mess that was my life.

The pain in my side was bad, almost agonizing. Whatever surgery Higgins had performed was obviously very sloppy for the pain had spread a bit. During some of my moments awake, when I was not being forced to eat or drink, I tried to figure out how bad the wound was now and how well it had been tended to. I found, after extensive concentration, that it had gone from being a tiny but dangerous bullet wound to a large and possibly lethal cut.

Then the day came that I decided that I might as well return to the waking world. When I awoke, I did not open my eyes in case someone was nearby. I felt that I needed to be alone at first and I convinced myself it was because I did not want to deal with the mothering. There was no presence nearby so slowly, I used my built up strength to open my eyes. It took a while to get them to focus, and even longer for them to deal with some intolerably bright light that was shining in the room. I'm sure that the light was not that bright at all but for someone who had been sleeping for ages, it felt as though I was staring straight at the sun.

After a moment of squinting, shapes started to become recognizable objects and these objects went from black to normal colors. I looked about with a bit of curiosity, taking in my surroundings. I was situated on a cot, an abundance of blankets underneath me and quite a few pillows beneath my head. This sort of comfort startled me for rarely did this quantity of pillows and blankets show up anywhere on the ship at one time. Next to the cot, a small table stood. It had an oil lamp on it as well as a pitcher and a half filled glass of water. Near my feet stood another larger table covered with all sorts of paraphernalia. With a bit of work, I was able to see my surgical tools, bandages, several bottles filled with medications and a shirt soaked in old blood. When I turned my attention from this, I noted that there were lamps hanging from the support beams of the ceiling though they were all out. A chest was far away in the opposite corner of the tent and between myself and the chest, the tent opening stood. It was closed but light still streamed through it, making the tent filled with strange shadows.

"It must be near noon," I murmured, lying back. A gentle breeze snaked through the tent, and I let out a soft sigh.

I strained my ears to take in what was going outside next. I wanted to observe as much as possible so I could feel slightly informed about where we were and what we were doing. There was the general shouting and rambling of the crew. Laughter was mingled with it, which made me guess that it was a while after the battle. There was rarely laughter around until a week or two after a violent confrontation. Wood striking something caught my ears and I heard the happy shouts of encouragement; clearly a game of cricket was going on as well. Yawning, I stopped listening, seeing as there was no deciphering any of the conversations.

My side throbbed and I considered checking up on it myself. Higgins was clearly not nearby and I didn't know the last time it had been looked at. However, that would mean mustering the strength to sit up. I realized that waiting for someone to come and help me would probably be the best course of action. _But who will help?_ A surprisingly bitter voice questioned. _Jack? Jack has already showed how little he cares for you and your wellbeing. Higgins? The man barely knows how to pull teeth and is probably avoiding being here. Who else is there? Padeen but he has better things to do. You are alone. _

The emotional pain I was in hit me again though not as strong as before. I knew that I was not quite alone or I would not still be alive but it was clear that no one cared as much as I had first thought. It hurt to think about for I had been under the illusion that I actually meant something to the people on the ship. At the very least, I thought I was truly important to Jack. Being wrong left me hurting to the point that I was almost numb. _I wish I could at least be angry at him, but I can't. I am only upset and lonely. _

I probably would have continued on this thought for an eternity had someone, or rather two someones, pushed their way through the tent flap. They did so quite carefully and quietly, as though they expected me to be asleep. It was quite a start for the both of them to see me half sitting up and looking at them.

I have never quite seen a face brighten the way that little Lord Blakeney's did. He came quickly to my side and knelt down so he could be level with me. "Sir! It's so good to see you awake!" His words, though they were not an unusual thing to be said to someone who was ill, made a warm, happy feeling go through me. There was something about the delighted expression on his face that almost made me sure he was glad to see me. "For a while there, we weren't sure if you were going to come back to us. I was so worried."

A smile crossed my lips, and I said, "It takes more than a mere bullet to get rid of me, Mr. Blakeney."

"Yes, of course, sir," he replied in agreement.

Padeen stood behind him, not speaking but giving me an utmost skeptical look. I caught his eye and saw the concern resting there but also a great amount of joy. He was clearly pleased to see me as well. _Two people still like me apparently. _

"Sir, we've been doing some collecting for you," Blakeney continued, excitement lining his every word. He pulled up one of the cages and gently placed it in my hands. "There, it's the same beetle as the one that I found on deck the first time we were by the Galapagos. There's a specimen of the plant we found it on as well, sir."

I studied the beetle, watching it crawl on the plant, the smile on my face growing a bit. "Well, you seem to have the makings of a naturalist, Mr. Blakeney. You've been doing some very good work in my absence."

"I tried, sir," Blakeney said, beaming at the praise. Then he reached for another cage. "Oh! And look at this! We nearly missed it the first time around but Padeen has good eyes."

I handed him back the first cage and found within the second cage a rare phasmid. The bug was standing stock still, trying to hide from its perceived predators. I could only stare at it for a few moments before looking at Blakeney in shock. It would have taken him quite sometime to find this, with or without Padeen's good eyes. "Thank you," I whispered. "It's lovely. I never thought I would actually see one."

"It wasn't a problem, sir," Blakeney said, setting some of the cages down next to my bed. "I rather enjoyed doing it and I thought it would make you happy to see when you decided to wake up." He kept my attention so well, that I did not even see Padeen leave. "After all, you really wanted to go explore the Galapagos."

"The Galapagos?" I repeated, slightly dumbstruck. "Is that where we are?"

Blakeney nodded. "Aye, sir, we've been here for nearly a week and a half now. The captain had us come back after we won against the _Acheron._ He sent Mr. Pullings to take the _Acheron_ to the nearest English port and then rushed here as fast as he could. He's been awful worried about you, sir."

Somehow, I doubted his worry for me. He had not shown any before the fight with the _Acheron._ "Is that so?" I asked, in a dismissive sort of way.

"Yes, he's not left your side until now, sir," Blakeney replied grimly, not noting my tone. "Ever since Mr. Higgins removed the bullet, he's been sitting by you, making sure you get food and water. When he was forced to sleep, he slept in here and he's only left now to fetch his violin and your cello. He thought that it would make you happy to hear music."

                It seemed that the whole point of waking me up was to give me enough shocks to send me back into unconsciousness. I could barely believe that Jack had been by me this whole time. The vague memories of someone forcing food and water into me flitted through my mind. _He was there all along. He was the one who was trying to keep me alive even though I thought he didn't want me alive. Then…he must truly care after all._

                Shaking my head, I tried to clear my mind of such thoughts. I didn't want to think of sadness anymore. Blakeney had made me happy and I wanted to stay that way for as long as possible. I also did not want to wear myself out with sad thoughts. My wound needed checking and I wanted to have the strength to do it. Handing the stick bug back to Blakeney, I looked behind him, searching for Padeen only to find him gone.

                "Where did Padeen get to?" I asked, attempting to sit up on my own and finding it a hopeless cause. "I want to check up on Higgins work and I need his help."

                Blakeney tried to look innocent but he did a very poor job. "He's getting the last thing we found for you."

                "Oh really?" The two of them must have spent nearly all their time collecting things for me. The joy that had been kindled in me grew. "And what is it?"

                "Well, sir," he began mysteriously. "We found her when we were looking for bugs and such. She was all tangled up in the brush and wasn't doing all that well. Her mate, well, he was already dead. He strangled himself. Padeen and I were quite sure she was going to pass but we brought her back with us anyway. With a bit of food and water, she was right as rain. We put her in one of your bigger cages and she's quite content. I-"

                "And how do you know that this thing is a 'she'?" I asked, amused.

                Blakeney shifted a bit and sat down on the ground. He was shorter now, his forehead equal with the cot, and I had to turn so I could see him. Moving was hard, and I knew it would take a while before I was up to full strength once more.

                "You'll see, sir," he answered, keeping me in the dark. "I hope you aren't disappointed. I know you wanted to catch one yourself but we couldn't just leave her."

                Padeen stepped in, holding one of my largest cages in his hands. It was covered and I couldn't see what was inside. Curiosity was about to kill me as he set the cage down in the far corner of the tent and took off the cover. I could not tell exactly what was making its home there but I thought I caught a glimpse of a nest. _No, it can't be. Don't get your hopes up. They couldn't possibly have found it…._ Padeen stood and pulled what appeared to be a piece of fish.

                "Padeen, sit the doctor up and let him feed her. She needs to get used to him," Blakeney said.

                Padeen walked over, and placed the fish back in his mouth. Being gentle as he always was, he helped me maneuver myself into a sitting position. My side protested the movement but my excitement caused me to ignore it. As Padeen supported me, Blakeney restacked the pillows so they would support my back and I leaned back against them. Padeen placed the fish in my hand and left to open the cage up.

                The next thing I knew, a lovely female cormorant was perched on my lap, looking at the fish hungrily. Sea green eyes stared at me, and a small black head tilted this way and that, taking in my appearance. Frankly, even to it, I must have looked terrible. Slowly, I broke a piece of the fish off and offered it to her, watching in fascination as she snapped it up and begged for more. Her underdeveloped wings fluttered a bit as I continued to feed her, proving my hypothesis of her being flightless.

                "Do you like her, sir?" Blakeney asked, a bit of anxiety in his voice. He was clearly a bit distressed that I would not want her because I had not caught her myself.

                I finished feeding her and when she saw I had no more food, she lost interest in me. She jumped off the cot and waddled towards the cage. As soon as she had disappeared back into its depths, I found my voice. "Mr. Blakeney," I murmured, my voice cracking slightly. "No words can precisely describe my feelings at the moment." He paled a bit and waited for a berating of some sort. "She is a princess among birds. I cannot thank you enough for her. Nothing will ever be able to tell you how happy this has made me."

                He has an angel face. His blonde curls frame cherub cheeks which hold a healthy rosy color. When he's happy, well, you'd think that God has sent an angel to visit you for but a moment. "I'm just glad you like her, sir. She's laid eggs in the cage. That's why she went right back in. I suppose in a few weeks, we'll have baby cormorants."

                I laughed for the first time in a while even though it hurt. "Well, Mr. Blakeney, if you would be so kind as to allow me to be beside you and Padeen as a co-discoverer when you present it in England-"

                "Discoverer, sir," Blakeney corrected, with a tone that left no room for arguing, "You discovered it. Padeen and I just caught it."

                "All the same-"

                Jack's voice rang throughout the camp and Blakeney turned white. I suddenly realized that he and Padeen would probably get in trouble for 'disturbing' me for so long. The child stood very quickly and started to move the cages into the corner. "I h-have to go, sir. I'll see you tomorrow if you are awake and the captain gives me permission. He's not going to be happy that I was here bothering you."

                "You weren't bothering me," I said firmly. "And it's not your fault that I asked for your help so I could look after my wound. Come here, and help me sit up more. Padeen, fresh water if you please, I want to get this fish off my hands before I start poking at the incision."

                Normally, I would not go against Jack. I liked to bother him on matters of authority but there was no way that I was going to see Blakeney and Padeen get into trouble. They had not only brought me quite a few wonderful gifts but they had made me laugh. They disobeyed Jack's rule but they had put me one step closer to healing emotionally. If they had not come, I would probably be a few steps backwards from such healing. Blakeney came over, a fearful question in his eyes and I shook my head, silently telling him to do what I said.

                Jack came in; no, he stormed in, looking ready to have someone flogged for disobedience. Blakeney cringed for he respected the captain and wished for Jack's good will. I tried to give him a look of reassurance before turning my face to Jack, eyebrow raised. He looked much worn as though he had not slept for a very long time. His hair was in need of a good brushing and his clothes had probably seen cleaner days.

                "Mr. Blakeney, I said the doctor was not to be disturbed," he said, his voice very tight.

                Blakeney's eyes grew slightly. "Well, sir, you see, I wasn't going to-"

                "It's good to see you as well, Jack," I said, a bit of sarcasm in my voice. "And I asked for Mr. Blakeney's help. I was told Higgins removed the bullet from me and I want to check how the wound itself is healing. Ah, Padeen, soap as well? Sometimes I wonder if you are actually the Christ."

                My comment silenced Jack. I wasn't sure why and I didn't pay much attention to it for the moment. It could have been my biting tone. More likely it was because he had sat by my side for ages, waiting for me to awaken and the one time he left, I had decided to open my eyes. It was most likely disappointing him. I could not make myself feel sympathetic though. After the many disappointments he had put me through, I felt that he deserved it.

                With Padeen's help more than Blakeney's, I pulled away the bandages to look at the wound. It didn't look half as bad as I expected but it didn't look that great either. Higgins had made the incision huge, and I was slightly glad. At least I knew he didn't accidentally take out an organ poking around. There was no way he could have missed the bullet. The crude stitching was going to leave me a jagged scar half way across my abdomen. If I had more pride in my physical appearance, I would have been quite upset by it. The area around the stitching had a bit of dried blood around it and a few drops of new blood from the amount of movement I'd been doing. It was inflamed and a bit warm to the touch. However, it was nothing like it had been before. Healing was clearly on the way.

                _Well, Higgins, you've made me proud. Mayhaps you have a doctor in you after all._ I chuckled a bit and dabbed the stitches with antiseptic. As long as they were kept clean, I would be well on my way to healing in a week or so. It would take a long while before I would have my strength back again though, and I knew it would take no time at all before I was before I would be very frustrated. Now though, I was just glad that Higgins hadn't chopped my whole side open trying to find the bullet.

                "Thank you, Padeen, Mr. Blakeney," I murmured as I settled myself back again. "I trust I'll see you both tomorrow?"

                "If you'll have us, sir," Blakeney replied, more than ready to be gone. He had been watching Jack nearly the entire time.

                I smiled.  "It would be very nice to have you. I would like you to help me take notes on the cormorant."

                Blakeney nodded and disappeared through the tent flap. I knew he was still very fearful that Jack would be angry with him. Padeen squeezed my hand gently, and I knew that later he would probably be around to speak with me. He followed Blakeney out and I was left alone with my friend.

                While I had been looking over my healing side, he had brought in both the cello and his violin. He had set the cello on its stand and placed the violin on a chair. A music stand had been brought in as well, and he had music placed upon it. That was more a formality than anything else, for he had memorized all the music we had on the ship. Now, he was sitting in the chair, the violin in his lap. His eyes were on the paper in front of him but his mind was floating off somewhere else. It was clear to me he wasn't going to start a conversation between us.

                "Mr. Blakeney said," I started, staring at the ceiling, "that you have not been sleeping very much lately."

                "So, he did come in for more than just helping you change your bandages," my friend snapped, glaring at the tent flap.

                "Oh bother it all," I groaned. "He came in to show me the cormorant he and Padeen had caught along with the bugs." I motioned to the cages. "They hoped to make me happy."

                "They went directly against my orders," Jack said in a low voice. "I said that you needed to rest and weren't to be disturbed."

                He was starting to upset me but I tried to control my emotions. "If they had stayed out then I would have spent a good thirty or forty minutes staring at the bloody ceiling. Though it is beautiful craftsmanship, I prefer the company of two kind gentleman whose only intentions were to make me smile."

                "They knew better. Staring at the ceiling and building your strength is better than wasting it on some damn-"

                "Hobby?" I finished for him. The emotional pain came back full force and the strange sapping energy filled me. I sat up straight and turned to him. "Is this the way it's going to be from now on, Jack? Every time we speak, are we going to sit and argue about some insignificant thing? Are we never going to be able to just talk like we used to? It's done, Jack! They came in; they mad me happy. They did me better than you did sitting here and forcing food into me! If this is the way it's going to be, then I wish that you did not. I wish that after the fight was over you had simply given me up. After all, I am only a member of this damned crew; the crew that you labeled expendable by attacking a much stronger ship with only a tooth drawer to heal them."

                Jack was silent. His brows drew together and he turned his face away. I nearly regretted my words. I had needed to get those emotions out but the way I had expressed them had been less than tactful. In my own defense, I put forward the fact that I was far from well and not in the clearest state of mind. It didn't make me feel much better though.

                "You are upset with me," Jack said finally, his voice expressionless. "I suppose it's warranted."

                "Warranted? Christ, Jack!" I cried. "Do you have any idea how you made me feel? I was in bed, unable to do a thing for the crew. I knew that they would need me and yet I could not help them. That made my heart break; to know that men were going to die because of my own weakness- it hurt! It still does! If I had been able to keep my hands from shaking I could have saved those who most likely died. Instead, I had to leave Mr. Higgins to treating them and he is not a prime candidate for doing operations!"

                Jack was still looking away. I wished with all of my heart that he would simply face me. I wanted to get this finished. I desperately wished for us to be on good terms again. The emotional pain was not providing me with the strength I would need to argue with him for long.

                "Is that all?" he asked slowly. "Or is there more? Is it only what sort of position I put you into? Or is it that I did give everything to get the _Acheron_ including you nearly?"

                It was my turn to stop looking at him. A few tears drifted down my face, and I found that they were terribly hard to stop. How could he ask that? I was furious that he had chosen the _Acheron _over me. There was no way to say that though without sounding selfish. It seemed childish almost to complain about. I was but a part of the crew and Jack clearly thought no more of me than that. I had to respond though and I had to be honest. I had to get out these emotions before they killed me.

                "Yes, Jack," I said, my voice cracking. "Yes, there is that too."

                In every violent argument, there often falls a very uncomfortable silence. I found myself sitting in one, feeling unwell in mind and body. Holding my side, I fought off the physical pain while my soul dealt with an emotional assault. I was tired, so tired. I was tired of fighting. I was tired physically. I was tired of feeling as though my dearest friend did not want me anymore. While the emotional pain slowly dulled, the pain in my side threatened to overwhelm me and I knew I had pushed myself a bit too far. I tried to shift myself so I could lie down but that task took too much energy. My vision blurred and darkness began to beckon to me. I was sure I was going to pass out and topple over when someone grabbed my shoulders.

                "I'm sorry, Stephen," Jack whispered in my ear, easing me back. "I truly am. If ever I could take back what I did, I would. In the end, I was wrong, as I am at times. I don't deserve your forgiveness. I've given you grave hurts. I will spend as much time as I can making it up to you starting with overlooking Padeen and Mr. Blakeney's disobedience. I heard you laugh in here and I know they made you happy. Truly, I was more jealous than anything else. I wanted to be here when you awakened but I missed my chance.

"You mean a great deal to me. If I've hurt you badly enough that you are questioning that, then I've done more damage than I could ever dream of doing. You are my very dearest friend, Stephen. Though you work your hardest to make me insane at points, I would sooner trust you with my life than I would trust anyone else. My total lack of consideration for you shows me how selfish I truly am." He sighed and something wet dropped on my face. "Now, rest. When you have more strength, we'll speak of this more if you wish."

                And very soon after that, I drifted off to sleep to the sound of his violin.

                There are some things that forever haunt a person. One betrayal can shatter a trust. Even if that trust is rebuilt, it is a fragile trust; it is forever uncertain. The sadness and pain heals slowly and the scar is always left. Whenever that trust is wounded again, it will disintegrate ten times as it did before. I know that I am just like any other person and my pain will never go completely. I also know that I will be able to move on and not wallow. For certain, I know I will always question his priorities; if his crew means more to him than another ship; if I mean anything at all to him. In the end though, it all boils down to whether or not I trust him to not make the mistake again.

                And for my part, as strange as it may seem, I do.

**-**

**The End**

**-**

**I hope you all enjoyed the story. I will attempt to get another story out as soon as humanly possible. I am taking classes this year that will permit me to write during them without the teachers snatching the paper away. Until then, though, I would like to thank you all for reading so much and give you my best wishes! Take care! Stay safe! Please review this if you get the chance and I shall see you next time. **


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